


Methos Chronicles 17

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [17]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: A hunter, an old friend. Why can't his life be boring? Is that too much to ask?
Relationships: Methos/Original Female Character
Series: Methos Chronicles [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Methos Chronicles 17

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't owe Highlander or its characters, just my OCs.

Paris, France, Present Day

The bar was starting to fill up with the first after-work customers when Methos arrived. He felt the Buzz of one, no two, Immortals inside and cautiously entered. He saw MacLeod at the bar looking at the door with a woman next to him, the source of the second Buzz. Methos cursed inwardly. Would it kill the Scot to warn him when he brought a new friend along? He really didn’t like meeting unknown Immortals unprepared.

“Adam, this is Susanna, a friend of mine.” Mac introduced her when Methos came over to them. Joe was nowhere in sight.

“Pleasure.” Methos told her but didn’t offer his hand, neither did she, he noticed.

“Pleasure is all mine.” Susanna purred at him, letting her gaze travel up and down his frame before dismissing him and returned to undress MacLeod with her eyes.

Methos forced himself to not roll his eyes, Amanda seemed to be out of town again or MacLeod would never stand quite so close to the other woman or let her hand travel where it did.

“Susanna is visiting Paris for the week and I offered to show her around.” MacLeod explained though Methos had given no indication that he cared.

“Never been here before, so Duncan promised me a personal tour.” Susanna said in a sultry voice. Something in the woman’s behavior screamed trouble to the old Immortal and knowing MacLeod it would in that trouble because he couldn’t stay out of other people’s problems.

“Right. Joe around? He asked me to come over.” Methos changed the topic. Joe had badgered him over the phone to get his ass to Paris ASAP. Methos normally didn’t jump when a Watcher called but Joe had sounded worried about something and he wouldn’t have demanded Methos come all the way from Rome if he didn’t think it was important.

“In the back office, I think.” Mac replied and indicated the door at the far end of the room, his attention clearly on Susanna and whatever her hand was doing under the bar. Shaking his head at these kinds of antics Methos headed for the back office.

Joe was sitting at his desk typing away on his computer with two fingers. He looked like a man deep in concentration.

“Hey, Joe.” Methos said cheerfully, startling the mortal badly.

“Do you have to do that?” Joe asked annoyed.

Methos shrugged. “It’s a way to pass the time. Now what was so important that I had to come all the way from sunny and warm Italy?”

Joe gave him a dirty look but took a book out of one of the desk’s drawers and put it in front of the old Immortal. “That one of yours?”

Methos picked the book up and leafed through it. It was over two thousand years old, the Chronicle, not the book, that had obviously been copied several times over. “It’s not mine. This is about Tak-Ne, I only make a guest appearance. Where did oy get this?” He refused to refer to his old friend as Ramirez. That had only been the last name he used before losing his head. It wasn’t who he had been for over two thousand years. “And why exactly am I allowed to see a Watcher Chronicle?”

“A recently deceased Watcher had this hidden in his home.” Joe explained, ignoring the last question.

“Hidden? As in he wasn’t allowed to have it? Did he steal it from you guys?” Methos wanted to know. If Watchers were starting to steal Chronicles they were all in deep shit.

“No, as far as we can tell he found it at an auction some years ago. Procedure it to turn it in for evaluation, he never did.” Joe told him.

“From whom did he buy it?” Methos wanted to know suddenly suspicious.

“It took us a while to trace it but it looks like Christine Salzer sold several books after Don died and before the whole Kalas mess went down. Fourteen of which are our Chronicles. We’re trying to track them all down. We could use your help. Even Zoll agreed with that.” Joe said with a hopeful smile.

“She didn’t waste any time, did she?” Methos asked. Christine had been a good woman, but that her husband had lived and died for the Watchers, for Immortals, had broken something inside her and she had taken her revenge where she could. And Chronicles of Immortals out there in the open for anyone to see, not a good idea, especially if they focused on old Immortals, namely him. “I’ll only work with you, Joe. Keep Zoll away from me.”

“Funny, she was saying something similar.” Joe grinned at the oldest Immortal.

Methos had just left his house the next morning when he felt the Buzz. Looking around he saw a very distinctive looking figure coming his way. A tall woman wearing a long dark coat, her long white hair caught in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and sunglasses covering her eyes, which he knew were a blood red. A smile stole over his face and he went down the steps to meet her.

“Marique, good to see you. What brings you here?” He asked her. They didn’t shake hands or hugged. That would be a bit awkward with all the weapons they both carried hidden on their bodies. Not that he didn’t want to, mind. Marique was the kind of person one just wanted to hug, among other things.

“Someone is after your head.” Marique told him bluntly.

“What makes you so sure of that?” Methos wanted to know. He didn’t doubt Marique, not after all the things he had seen her do in the past.

“I’m not sure of the details but word gets around. I know only that it’s a young Immortal, as such things go, trying to make a name.” Marique replied.

Methos shook his head amused. “That’s awfully helpful, you know. Does that Immortal know who I am or is this a more general search?”

Marique sighed. “A general search so far but she’s zeroing in on you here in Paris.”

Methos nodded and they both started walking towards the metro station. “She? Is her name by chance Susanna? Good thing I just moved back to Rome then.”

“Met her already, I see.” Marique smiled grimly. “That’s a very dangerous woman. Full of ambition and greed. And she doesn’t care whom she had to kill to get her way.”

“I met her last night in a bar, hanging on a friend of mine. If she can connect me to him and she’s really getting close.” Methos told her shortly. Just like that a good day had gone down the drain.

“Maybe you should leave.” Marique suggested.

“Will she leave my friend in one piece if I do?” Methos wanted to know.

Marique shook her head. “Probably not.”

“Great, of course MacLeod had to pick her up. I told him a thousand times not to underestimate women just because they’re women. It would serve him right to lose his head over this.” Methos ranted a bit. Marique just watched him with an amused smile. “Come on, let’s see if we can talk some sense into MacLeod.” He finally said when he was done.

“What makes you think he’ll listen to us?” Marique asked still with that amused smile on her face.

“Oh, he won’t, but then he can’t say we didn’t warn him.” Methos explained. “And then I’m leaving. Do you want to come along? I now own a lovely villa just outside of Rome.” Joe would be pissed but Methos valued his head a bit more than Joe’s good opinion of him. And the Chronicles could wait. Besides if his suspicion proved right, Susanna was bound to have one or two of them anyway.

MacLeod was cleaning off his breakfast on the terrace of his new house when the other two Immortals arrived. Going by the strength of the Buzz he was alone. Maybe he hadn’t gotten luck with Susanna last night.

“MacLeod, Marique, Marique, MacLeod.” The old man quickly introduced them.

“Pleasure,” MacLeod said, giving Methos a questioning look. Methos had made it very clear some time ago that he would no longer introduce his old friends to the Scot, they all tended to end up dead if he did.

“Did Susanna already leave?” Methos asked.

“She didn’t stay at all.” MacLeod pointed out a bit miffed. Rare was the woman who could resist the charms of Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

“Pity, could have saved us a lot of time.” Marique muttered.

“I beg your pardon.” MacLeod looked suspiciously at Marique.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, MacLeod.” Methos spoke up. “But it does appear that your new friend is after my head, or more precisely, Methos’ head.”

“What makes you think that?” MacLeod demanded to know. “She didn’t say anything yesterday.”

“Just because she doesn’t exactly make a secret of it, doesn’t mean she tells just anyone. And she didn’t tell yo because she thinks you’ll lead her to him.” Marique explained calmly.

“But how would she know Methos is even here in Paris?” MacLeod asked, clearly unwilling to believe this strange Immortal, even if she was Methos’ friend, or maybe because she was.

“Good old research.” Methos told him. “And yesterday Joe told me that Christine Salzer sold several of Don’s books after his death, including Chronicles. What do you think are the chances are she has at least one of them?”

“That could be coincidence.” Methos pointed out. “She’s just a kid.”

“Surely you know what they say about coincidences, they take a lot of planning.” Marique said to him and then turned to Methos. “We delivered our warning.” Then back to MacLeod. “Believe us or not, but don’t be surprised if you end up dead because of her. Oh, and you might want to ask your Watcher friends what happened to her teacher.”

When MacLeod still looked unwilling to believe them, to even consider the possibility, Methos shrugged and they left the terrace. They warned him. There was nothing more they could do when the Scot insisted to be blind and stubborn.

When MacLeod met Susanna later that day to give her the promised tour he firmly put the nonsense Methos and his _friend_ had told him out of his mind. And it was nonsense. Susanna would never head-hunt, she was too kind a person.

“This was really wonderful, Duncan.” She told him with a winning smile. They were strolling down along the edge of the Seine basking in the rays of the mid-October sun.

Mac smiled back at her. “Glad you enjoyed it. Now, anything else I can tell you about Paris?”

“Well, yes, now that you ask. Do you know where our kind likes to hang out?” Susanna wanted to know.

Mac looked at her confused. “Why do you want to know?”

Susanna shrugged. “To stay out of their way. I’m good with a sword, but no reason to try my luck.”

“Of course, well, there is not one meeting place. Immortals just come and go as in every other city, I guess.” Mac explained.

“Yes, right, but the old ones, they surely have their haunts.” Susanna persisted.

Now Methos’ warning did come back to him. Maybe Susanna wasn’t quite as innocent as she pretended to be. “I wouldn’t know about that. I don’t know any of the really old ones.” He hedged.

Susanna smiled at him again, but her eyes held a hard cold glint. “But you do know Methos, don’t you? Everyone says so.”

“Who is everyone?” MacLeod demanded to know. The Old Man would kill him.

Susanna shrugged. “Amanda, she says you’re his friend. You know, I had given up on ever finding him after the books led to one dead end after the other but after she told me, I just had to come here and see for myself.”

“Why? What do you want from him?” MacLeod forced out.

She laughed at him. “The same as you do, Duncan, his head.”

“Susanna has all your missing Chronicles.” Methos announced to Joe when he entered the Watcher’s office at the back of the bar a few hours later.

“All fourteen? How did she manage that?” Joe asked surprised. He didn’t doubt the truth of it. Methos was very good at finding things, especially things that concerned himself. He was surprised that the old Immortal had been so quick in finding them. The Watchers had been searching for weeks and Methos had located them in only a few hours.

“Bought some, stole some. I found them when I broke into her hotel room. And I took the liberty of liberating them.” Methos said with a grim smile and put a box on the table, full of old books.

“Nothing to make my day like a bit of B&E.” Joe muttered but he took the box and put it in the safe behind his desk.

“And whom is she going to complain to about? The police? MacLeod?” Methos wanted to know. “If she’s smart she’ll leave immediately, if not, we’ll see who the better fighter is.”

“Mac’s not going to like this.” Joe sighed.

Methos shrugged. “I really don’t care. We warned him.”

“Who’s we?” Joe wanted to know.

“What? The all-seeing Watchers don’t know? Marique is currently visiting me?” Methos told him in a conspiratorial fake whisper.

“Marique? The albino?” Joe eyes grew big before turning to his computer and typing in a few commands. “Damn, her Watcher still has her in Amsterdam.”

“Probably just too embarrassed to tell anyone that he lost her. You know how it is.” Methos said with another shrug.

“I’m still going to put this in his file. Now, what did she say? Warn you about Susanna?” Joe asked eagerly.

Methos nodded. “She did. And no, you can’t ask her the lottery numbers.”

Joe grinned ruefully. “Ah, there goes that idea. But seriously, what are you going to do know, about Susanna, I mean.”

“Go back to Rome, now that the books are no longer out there.” Methos told him.

“Alone?” Joe asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Methos grinned. “Why don’t you observe and see if you can record something?”

Methos was on his way out when his cell rang. It was MacLeod. “What is it, Highlander?” he asked absentminded.

“You were right.” Mac stated. “She’s after your head. Told me she has been searching for you ever since she became immortal. She thinks I’m only your friend to be able to get past your defenses to take your head one of these days. When I tried to tell her that that wasn’t the case she laughed at me and left, saying it was a contest now and we would see how got your head first. I think she’s insane.”

“No, Highlander, she’s just trying to play the Game, way ahead of her league, if you ask me.” Methos corrected. “Listen, MacLeod, she wants my head she can try but I’m not going to pull my punches if she manages to put two and two together.”

“No, this is my fault. I deal with her.” MacLeod insisted.

Methos rolled his eyes even if the Scot couldn’t see it.” Macleod, I can fight my own fights, thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t mean…I’m just worried.” Mac sighed. “Maybe you should leave town.”

“Way ahead of you, Highlander. That’s exactly what I’ve been planning to do.” Methos told him. He would grab Marique, if she wanted to, and head back to Rome and Susanna could rot here waiting for him to show up again.

But when he returned to his house he was in for a surprise. Marique and Susanna were in the process of wrecking the place, and the garden. Obviously the young Immortal had been able to put two and two together. Tough luck that he hadn’t been home and she now had to fight Marique. He stayed back so as not to disturb them. Marique could take care of herself. And thank the gods that the weather was as bad as it was and no one was on the street because this would be awkward to explain. Maybe larping or roleplay thing, if all the fantasy craze going on people might even buy it.

“I don’t want your head, bitch. Just tell me where Methos is and we can walk away from this.” Susanna said between pants.

Marique scoffed. “Like I sell my friends out that easy. You challenged me, remember? Now you have to see it through.”

“Oh, fuck it.” Susanna cursed and ran in the opposite direction from where Methos was standing behind a couple of trees. He doubted he had seen the last of her though. He made his way towards Marique where she stood looking after where her opponent had disappeared.

“So, Rome.” Marique said when she felt him approach.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed.

Packing his bags, Methos left a quick message on Joe’s cell and then he and Marique were on the road. They didn’t talk for the first out or so, both lost in their own thoughts. Methos’ were about how much to spend on fixing the house and what to tell the insurance company. Most of the furniture and a couple of windows needed to be replaced and somehow he didn’t think the insurance company would accept _LARPing gone wrong._

Ah, well, it wasn’t like money really was an issue. Though Murron had loved the house. That alone would be enough reason to have everything repaired.

“What if she goes after MacLeod?” Marique suddenly asked.

“He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.” Methos pointed out. MacLeod was not his priority right now. “Unless you’re telling me that’s what she’ll be doing and that he’ll lose.”

“I’m not anyone’s personal oracle, Methos.” Marique said with a stern look at him. “And he has a weak spot for women, even immortal ones, I don’t have to tell you that. Give him a call to warn him.”

Methos shrugged. “If you insist.” But I thought you didn’t really like him.”

“I don’t.” Marique replied. “That doesn’t mean I want him dead. I’m sure he has his uses or you wouldn’t keep him around.”

Methos had to smile at that. “I’m pleading the fifth on that. But I guess you’re right.” He left a short message on Mac’s voicemail and then told Marique how to hack into the Watcher database to see what they had on Susanna.

“It won’t take her long to figure out where we’ve gone.” Marique said while typing. “I mean, her mean streak aside, she’s pretty smart.”

“I know.” Methos agreed. “But at least I’ll face her on a ground of my choosing.”

“We’ll face her on a ground of our choosing, you mean.” Marique corrected.

They switched places shortly before they reached the Alps so Methos could get some sleep. He told Marique to just drive in the general direction of Rome and to wake him once they were past Florence. A moment later he was asleep. Marique shook her head with a smile and put the car into gear.

They had just passed Torino when Methos’ phone rang. The oldest Immortal was immediately awake and alert. “What is it, MacLeod?” he asked the caller.

“Susanna got away, she might know where you’re headed.” Macleod told him in a voice full of remorse.

“And how did she find that out.” Methos wanted to know, already having a good idea.

MacLeod sighed deeply. “I think she overheard me talking to Joe the other night. But I don’t think she has the exact address.”

“Well, I guess I still better find another place to hide for a while. See you in a while.” Methos replied and ended the call. As if it would be so difficult to figure out his exact address after everything else she had already managed to learn.

“You aren’t going to hide anywhere, are you?” Marique more stated than asked.

Methos shook his head. “No, she made her choice.”

“I like this place.” Marique said walking through Methos’ villa outside of Rome. “I hope you don’t plan on taking Susanna’s head here. Would be a shame to wreck this place too.”

Methos scoffed. “No, there’s an empty plot farther down the street I also own. That should do. And until she shows up how about I cook us something. I’m starving.”

“You do that. I’ll take a look at your studio.” Marique nodded and headed towards the back of the house where he usually worked.

“They’re just paintings.” Methos pointed out.

“Then you won’t mind me seeing them, will you?” Marique smiled at him over shoulder before disappearing down the corridor.

Muttering under his breath, Methos headed to the kitchen. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but he wanted her to like his work and he wasn’t sure she would. She was so much better at this whole art thing than he was.

“Remind me again why you refuse to ever work as a chef.” Marique said after finishing her plate. As always when Methos cooked it was delicious. They were sitting on the front terrace enjoying the last rays of the sun and a nice bottle of white wine.

“Too stressful.” Methos replied with a straight face.

“Right.” Marique snorted and took a sip from her wine. “Because you always lead such sedate lives.”

“One tries, and I did, until I met MacLeod.” Methos pointed out. “Besides…” He trailed off when both of them felt the Buzz wash over them. “That was fast.” He muttered and reached for his sword.

“Probably took a direct flight.” Marique muttered.

“Yeah, probably. See you in a bit.” Methos stood and headed for the gate. Marique sat back and watched him leave. Not worried, maybe just a bit, really. She in all likelihood knew how it would end. She often did, but not always. She didn’t control these things.

Susanna stood back from the gate a superior grin on her face. “You know, after all the things I learned about you, I thought you would be more impressive.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Shall we?” he asked pointing northwards with his sword.

“Why not right here?” Susanna wanted to know, swinging her blade with confidence. “Afraid your girlfriend sees you die?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Methos scoffed. “I just don’t want to ruin the paint because of you.”

Susanna sneered at him. “You’re going to regret that remark. But fine, lead the way, oh ancient one. It makes no difference to me.”

There was no one living in the immediate vicinity for which Methos was now double grateful. Having to explain a duel to the death to some hapless mortal, let alone the police, was not something he ever relished doing, no matter the century.

Susanna couldn’t be bothered with such thoughts. With an angry scream she attacked. Methos parried the blow easily and returned with a vicious stab himself, cutting her left forearm deeply.

Stumbling back a few feet Susanna glowered at him. “The books say you can’t fight.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read then.” Methos replied bored. He knew what the books said. He had written one or two of them himself. He liked it when others underestimated him.

Susanna kept up her attack but never even got close to Methos. He nicked her a few times, drawing blood but never anything serious, only making her angrier. Methos wanted her getting angry, it made her sloppy, and that made it so much easier to defeat her. And soon enough he had her disarmed and she fell to her knees panting, clutching at yet another wound.

“Others will come for you.” She hissed. “You’ll never be safe.”

Methos shrugged. “That’s life.” Susanna kept staring at him defiantly as he brought his blade down.

Marique walked through the atelier admiring Methos’ works while he fought Susanna. He was good, he was very good, in fact. He should work as artist more often. So much emotion, he was really bottled up inside, most of them were, those who weren’t burned out quickly, Byron was a good example of that. But this was a good compromise.

She was studying a painting depicting a dark forest with hidden creatures prowling through it when she felt Methos come back. It was hard to differentiate Quickenings, it had taken her ages to learn to do it properly. How she envied those few who could do it naturally.

“A very dark work.” She commented without turning around.

“I felt like it.” Methos replied, sounding both exhausted and wired up.

Marique turned to face him. “And now?”

“Now I need to work out, get that Quickening to settle. Want to join me?” he asked.

“Certainly, but what about the body?” Marique wanted to know.

Methos waved it off. “Already buried, I can dig quickly.”

Marique fought a smile but wasn’t really succeeding. “I hear slow digging is better, you get more out of it.”

Methos rolled his eye at her. “You, my dear, are not a stand-up comedian.”

There was not much that distinguished their training battle from a real one. Neither was pulling their punches and why should they? They were immortal and healed quickly. After about an hour they were both drenched in sweat and breathing hard. But neither was willing to give up. They kept attacking each other until Marique managed to disarm Methos with a quick twist of her hand. Her own sword went flying too but she still had won the match, because she still had her dagger.

Methos looked at her without saying anything for a long moment. Neither made a move to recover their blades. Panting heavily Methos stepped close to Marique.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He stated simply.

“Then why are you still talking?” Marique wanted to know.

Without another word he grabbed her and pushed her against the nearest wall. He grounded his hips against hers while he captured her lisp in an almost brutal kiss. When they broke apart, they ripped each other’s clothes off, throwing them away, already forgotten.

Running his hands over Marique alabaster skin he drank her in. She was as beautiful as he remembered. He lifted her up against the wall and entered her slowly.

“Oh, fuck!” he breathed as she sheathed himself in her tight, hot cunt.

“Well, I sure hope so.” Marique panted and buried her hands in his hair. “And you better make it good.”

Methos chuckled and started to thrust into her faster and faster. Marique looked like a fragile China doll but she was anything but. And she liked to proof it.

When he could feel her tightening around him, he pulled out of her. “Turn around.” He breathed.

Marique raised an eyebrow at him but obliged and he entered her from behind, pressing her against the wall. He was covering her body with his and the heat of her body against his felt great.

“Right there! Right there!” Marique urged him on. “Fuck! I’m coming.” And her inner walls clenched around his cock. Two more thrust and he too exploded inside her.

“I don’t want to stop.” Methos whispered into her ear. “I want to fuck you all night long.”

Marique turned around in his embrace. “Only all night? I think I can make you last longer. Are you up for it?”

Methos grinned at her. “Always.”

“Then down on the floor with you.” Marique ordered and pushed against his sweat-glistening chest. “I’m going to ride you now.”

He laid down and Marique straddled his lap, taking his hardening cock deep inside her. She took her time with him, sliding up and down his shaft slowly, keeping him from reaching his peak, driving him insane. When she finally allowed him to come, he emptied himself inside he with a shout. And that was only the start of the things she did to him.

The ringing phone woke them around noon the next day. Methos took a look at the display and sighed as he accepted the call. “I’m still alive, MacLeod.” He told the Scot.

“And you’re in Rome, aren’t you? Susanna’s Watcher just filed his closing report.” MacLeod grumbled angry.

Marique raised an eyebrow at the younger Immortal’s tone, which she could hear quite clearly due to the volume of his voice.

“I’m a big boy, MacLeod, I can go wherever I want.” Methos informed him. “And the same goes for Susanna. I didn’t force her to come after me.”

“I could have talked her out of it.” MacLeod insisted.

Methos sighed. Leave it to the Highlander to think he could solve everyone’s problems. “I seriously doubt that. Besides, it’s done. Let it go.”

“I’m coming to Rome.” The Scot announced.

“What for?” Methos wanted to know.

“What for?” MacLeod repeated incredulous.

Methos rolled his eyes at Marique who chuckled into her pillow. “Yes, MacLeod, what for? What exactly are you planning to do once you’re in Rome?”

That shut the younger Immortal up. “Just stay in touch then.” He finally said.

“Sure.” Methos promised and hung up. “Mother-hen.”

Marique snorted. “Your own fault for befriending him.”

“Yes, that will teach me.” Methos agreed with a sigh.

“Alright, Susanna is off the active roster.” Joe finished typing. “I wonder if Marique sticks around now that the threat it passed.”

“What do you know about her anyway?” Mac asked far too nonchalantly.

Joe gave Mac a knowing look. “Fishing for information, are we?...Well, she’s about 1400 years old, she’s from South Africa, likes to keep a low profile, very good at hiding her albinism. I mean, she had to, given humanities track record when it comes to dealing with people that are different.”

“South Africa?” Mac repeated. “But she’s not African, I mean, even if she weren’t an albino.”

“Hey, I can only tell you what it says in her Chronicles.” Joe held up his hands. “Sometimes you Immortals pop up in the weirdest places.”

Mac had to concede the point. “But South Africa.” He muttered.

South Africa, ca. 391 AD

With a painful gasp Marique woke up. Her head hurt like never before. And with a moan she rolled over, heaving, but nothing came out.

“The pain will fade in a few moments.” A male voice said form above her, thick with an accent she had never heard before.

Startled Marique sat up and scrambled back when she saw the big, black man standing over her.

The man knelt down, keeping his distance, holding his hands up to show that he was unarmed. “I will not harm you. My name is Kanan.”

“My parents, where are they?” Marique wanted to know. “What is this place?”

Kanan sighed. “What do you remember?”

Marique hugged her knees. “They thought I had taken the water away, but I swear I didn’t. I’m not a witch…Where are my parents?”

Kanan nodded. “I know you are not, the water just went away on its own. And your parents are alright, they’re still at the village.”

“You…you made them stop, didn’t you?” Marique whispered. “You made them stop throwing stones at me. You saved me.”

But Kanan shook his head. “Some of them hit you badly, causing injuries inside your head. You were alive when I carried you inside your parents’ hut but you died soon after.”

“But…but I’m alive.” Marique protested.

“You are now. But you were dead, your parents are mourning you.” Kanan told her.

Marique scrambled to her feet. “I have to go back to them.”

“And do what?” Kanan asked gently, stopping her dead in her tracks. “You say you are not a witch, but what will the villagers believe when they see you alive again? Alive and unharmed? What will your parents say, what will they do?”

Marique had no answer, at least none she was willing to think too hard about.

“I know this is hard, but you are dead to them, stay dead for them. It’s saver that way, for you and your parents.” Kanan voice was full of sympathy but also firm.

Marique sank back to the ground. “I thought they were my friends, and then they blamed me for the draught. They’ve known me my whole life. Why would they think I would do such a thing?...They picked me because I’m different, didn’t they?”

Kanan nodded. “They usually do.”

And suddenly Marique started to cry. She just couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. After a moment she felt Kanan’s arms encircle her and she cried even more.

Once Marique had calmed down, Kanan explained to her what she was and what had happened to her. At first she didn’t believe him. How could anyone live forever? It was absurd.

Then h showed her and she could no longer deny the truth. Her old life was over, there was no way to get back to it. “And what now? What do I do? Where do I go?” she asked. They were in the savannah, they couldn’t stay here for long.

“For now you will come with me. You’re my student now and there is much I still have to teach you.” Kanan told her.

Marique nodded slowly. “How to use a sword, how to kill.”

“Yes,” Kanan agreed. “And other things.”

“What things?” Marique asked suspiciously.

Kanan smiled at her. “Some of us have abilities that others do no, aside from our immortality. I have the ability to sometimes know things before they happen, I always had, that was how I knew where to find you.”

“I don’t have any special abilities.” Marique pointed out.

“Not yet. It’s different for everyone. I could do this since I can remember, but some need to learn to use it. You are someone like that. But once you do, you will be even more powerful than me.” Kanan explained.

“Do I have to learn? I mean, knowing what is about to happen, I’m not sure that’s necessarily a good thing. I mean, can I change it or do I just watch it unfold?” Marique said.

Kanan smiled. “You are a smart one. I can understand your reluctance. Sometimes I curse my ability, because, yes, we can change things, once in a thousand times, and it is very difficult that one time. But in the long term it has saved me more than once. And I will be honest with you here, your ability is dormant but strong. I believe it will manifest one day on its own, whether you want it to or not. It’s better to know, to understand what’s going on than not.”

Marique sighed and ran her hands over her face. “I don’t want any of this, I want it to be as it was before…But that’s not going to happen, is it? So, where do we start?”

They travelled north, Kanan wanted to get her to lands where people with skin closer to hers lived, and one could not go much further south anyway, he told her. It was exciting for Marique after a while, she had never left her village before and she had never seen other light-skinned people.

But Kanan also warned her, most people would eye her with suspicion because her eyes were red and her hair was white, no matter where she went. She would have to find ways to deal with that.

“Then why are we even going there?” Marique wanted to know.

“Because you cannot hide forever. You need to become part of the world, stand strong when they would tear you down. You need to learn, it will be hard and you will be hurt, but it will make you strong.” Kanan replied.

“Did you see that?” she asked.

Kanan smiled at her over his shoulder. “I don’t need any foresight to know that you ae a gift to the world. Even if the world will not see it most of the time.”

Marique learned quickly. Everything Kanan taught her, she seemed to soak up like a sponge. She was quick with a sword, making up in speed and agility what she lacked in strength and reach.

And as far as her ability to know things went, Kanan only had to nudge her into the right direction, the rest came on its own. At first it nearly drove her mad, it was so overwhelming, but after the first few years she grew accustomed to it and she started to find it useful, though Kanan was right, she couldn’t change most things, no matter how much she wanted to. It gave her an advantage, sometimes, but there were occasion where she did cures it, as she had to watch play out and was powerless to do anything about it.

Present Day

Watching Methos pain was almost meditative, Marique thought. He had looked like he wanted to protest when she had sat down in his atelier but then he had just shrugged and started to work.

And now three hours later he was finished for the day And Methos looked very pleased with himself, as he should, it was a very good painting.

“How about dinner?” he asked.

Marique stood up. “I could use a bite. Where are you going to take me?”

Methos cleaned his hands from the paint. “There is that restaurant just at the edge of town. And I know fo a fact, that you’re going to love it.”

“That, I think, is my line.” Marique smiled and gave him a quick kiss.

“I steal only from the best.” Methos informed her. “Or we could just skip dinner and proceed right to desert.”

Marique pretended to think it over. “That, I think, sounds even better.”

End


End file.
